Crocodile blue, anthracite gap, scarlet mouthful, cobalt noise, quinacridone thorn, turquoise stare, carmine plunge, toothache viridian, umber glare, dioxazine scream, ivory curve, purple dread, naples veil, celadon glaze, floating alizarine, walled cinnabar, cyan drain, saffron acid, remotely crimson, emerald slip, cerise sting, cerulean cloak, folium notch, madder spring, cadmium plod, asthma ultramarine, manganese knee, rim gold, phthalocyanine soft…
There is nothing abstract in abstract painting. It’s rather the most concrete kind of art; there is nothing else to be seen than what is already there. In this pure act of perception, one can look back at the act of seeing itself; at our own naked perceptions, that hide, inside them, the millions of years of perceiving that tie us in innumerable knots to reality. We can see in them the first act of a conscious being that orients itself towards the light; the search for order, pattern and structure; the emotional streams generated by color; the feeling of weight and mass; the freedom and lightness of air; the closure of filled places; the silence of empty spaces; the energy of contrast; the edges that we use to differentiate objects. If a pure shape, color or line has an effect on us, it’s because of the silent echo of the contexts in which they have already been seen; the traces of things are built in our perception.
Dragoș Bădiță

Fotocredit: Lucian Indrei and Roland Vaczi

lateralartspace.com